


Fire meet gasoline (or idk, it might work for now, but it's cheesy af)

by Jarsenpadackles97



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Author's first language is not english, F/M, Jaime is not a scumbag, No Underage Relationship, No Underage Sex, Older Man/Younger Woman, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rhaenys is mature for her age, Underage Kissing, author is an amateur at writing so please be understanding, author really likes relationships between younger women and older men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29286564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jarsenpadackles97/pseuds/Jarsenpadackles97
Summary: What if Jaime Lannister becomes Rhaenys Targaryen's legal guardian?And then, what if he develops feelings for her?I'm really not that good of a writer. I was going through my very long list of unfinished stories and thought I'd post this one because I kind of liked it - a little bit.It's not finished, of course, and there is a very small chance it ever will be, but...I guess I just wanted to share it with someone nonetheless.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Original Female Character(s), Jaime Lannister/Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Fire meet gasoline (or idk, it might work for now, but it's cheesy af)

Jaime showed up the moment he received the call. The woman sitting at the desk across from him is occasionally stealing glances at him over her dark-rimmed glasses, and he knows she’s judging him. In any other situation, he’d say something, make a snarky remark, but right now he’s feeling nauseous and very much out of it. Any moment now the girl, Rhaegar’s daughter, should walk into the room, and he needs to keep his emotions in check. He has to. 

The door opens and first a woman that seems to be in her early 40s walks in, followed by the girl. Jaime doesn’t realize he’s leaning back in his chair to get a better look at her. He squints his eyes, trying to discern her features. Will she have her father’s eyes? Or her mother’s? She isn’t blonde, that much is clear. Long dark brown hair is neatly put up in a ponytail. She sits down in a chair in front of him. She is looking down, hands clasped together on the table. When she chances a look at him, what strikes him is the intensity of her gaze. Dark violet eyes, like her father. Hers are a shade darker, but the rest of her face is screaming Elia. He has to clear his throat and look away to be able to focus on what is going to be said next. 

*earlier that day*

Jaime’s phone is ringing on the nightstand, too loud for his liking, and anyone calling him at this hour will not be spared from his wrath. It’s Tyrion.

“What the fuck do you want?! Do you know what time it is?!” 

“Good afternoon Jaime. How are you doing?” Tyrion replies, completely unfazed, which angers Jaime even more. 

“Why are you calling?”

“If you’re suffering from a bad hangover and/or the eternal pain in the ass that is our sister, I suggest you do the best you can to get over it, and show up, looking as presentable as you can manage, at the Children’s bureau, where you have an appointment with the Martell family attorney in an hour from now.” 

Jaime’s hazy brain needs time to process his brother’s words:

“What?” There is a pause before Tyrion speaks again:

“Oberyn Martell called me last night. Rhaenys, Elia and Rhaegar’s daughter, turned 16 two weeks ago. You know what that means.” Shit, thought Jaime.

“Exactly.” Said Tyrion, as if reading his mind.

“Wait, why do I have to go there? Will Oberyn be there as well? If he’s going to be there, I’m telling you now that I’m not responsible for my actions when he sees me and decides to murder me on the spot. I’ll have to defend myself.”

“Oh please stop being so dramatic! Oberyn will not be there, and what I’m about to tell you is going to be even more shocking for you, considering what you’ve just said.”

“Do fucking proceed.” Jaime growls in exasperation, hearing his brother pause for effect, as if it’s supposed to help him be any less ‘dramatic’, as Tyrion has put it.

“Oberyn told me his fiancée, Ellaria Sand, isn’t comfortable with adoption yet. She isn’t even sure is she wants children at all.” Jaime is confused.

“What the fuck do I care if Oberyn’s bitch wants children?!” He snaps, and Tyrion lets out a sigh, as the long-suffering younger brother of Jaime Lannister:

“He won’t adopt Rhaenys because Ellaria won’t let him.” Silence again. Only then the meaning of what Tyrion just said settles in:

“Tyrion...I can’t…”

“First of all, you don’t even know what’s going to happen, so stop assuming the worst.”

“And, as I understand, in your opinion, my assumption of the worst is that I’ll be asked to be her legal guardian. If I assume that to be the worst, it’s a super fucking nice start for....whatever it is I have to become to the girl. What does that say about me?!”

“Jaime, you’re dramatizing again.”

“No, I’m not dramatizing, I’m being realistic! She’ll sense it if she’s not truly wanted or loved, you of all people should know this.” He hears his brother wince slightly, and Jaime knows his words were harsh, but he forces himself to continue because he feels panic enveloping him:

“She’s an orphan, and orphans tend to have that weariness.” 

“You don’t even know her. I know what’s happening with you right now, you’re panicking and coming up with the worst-case scenarios.” Jaime closes his eyes, wishing for a tiny moment of peace in the middle of the whirlwind of revelations that this conversation with Tyrion has been so far. Suddenly he realizes:

“So Oberyn, the man whose family matters the most to him, listens to a woman that tells him he should not adopt his own niece?! And on top of that, he has to relinquish his right to adopt her, to a man whose guts he absolutely hates!” 

“He has to, yes, if that’s what is said in Rhaegar and Elia’s will.” Jaime gets up from the bed, trying to ignore the way in which his heart is pounding in his chest and ears, not to mention his horrible headache. He practically runs to his office, where he knows he keeps a copy of the will. 

“Jaime, are you alright?” Tyrion asks when he gets no answer from his brother, only hearing his frantic breathing.

“Yes, I’m just...looking over the will myself.” His eyes are scanning the document, and he has a hard time making sense of most of the legal terms, especially now when stressed, and his dyslexia is acting up. 

“Jaime, there’s not a mistake I have no doubt you’re looking for. They really chose you as the next in line to take care of their daughter, in case something happened.” Silence, and Tyrion already knows what his brother wants to ask, he knows before Jaime himself, that those will be the words, leaving his mouth next. As if on cue, the older brother speaks:

“Why me?” Unbeknownst to Jaime, Tyrion punches the air winningly, praising himself for rightly guessing his brother’s train of thought. 

“Because you protected Elia and took care of her when no one else did. Because you helped Rhaegar. Jaime, they knew you in a way that I know you, and if I ever had to choose someone that I would entrust with my most valued possession, it would be you.” Instead of feeling relief at his brother’s words, Jaime only feels anger, because he has a hard time believing he really is that person that Elia and Rhaegar thought him to be. He just did what he had to do, he wasn’t some sort of savior, and he was set to convince Tyrion of that as well.

“Well, that would be foolish. I’m not the man you think I am.”

“Are you fishing for compliments, my dear brother?” Jaime rolls his eyes:

“I have to start getting ready, and I want to meet with you after the appointment. You’ll help me make sense of everything, and Tyrion...we have to look for another way. Even without all that it entails for me to become her legal guardian, I don’t know the next thing about how to treat a girl her age. I don’t know how to talk to her, I don’t know what she needs...what am I supposed to do? Read parenting books?!” Tyrion then laughs, finding his brother’s distress amusing. 

“Just go and call me after the meeting is over.” With that he hangs up the phone, and Jaime finds, to his surprise, that he’s positively terrified to go. He’s terrified of a girl, of his dead best friend’s teenage daughter. 

*the night before, at Tyrion’s house*

Tyrion just got done talking with his father on the phone, an unpleasant affair as always, and no less than five minutes later his phone is ringing again.

“Tyrion Lannister.” He answers mechanically, noticing however, as he’s used to, the Dorne area code. A small part of him already knows who’s calling, and the voice at the other end of the line confirms his guess.

“Good evening Tyrion. This is Oberyn Martell speaking.” Every time they talk, Tyrion is reminded of a sad past, and of the fact that he doesn’t particularly like Oberyn. This time is no different. 

“Good evening. What has you calling me at this hour?” Oberyn chuckles:

“I find no more pleasure in speaking with you, Lannister, than you do in speaking with me, but I have something important to discuss with you. It’s about Elia’s daughter.” 

Tyrion doesn’t think he’s in a position to judge the Martell family decisions, not when he’s Tywin Lannister’s son, and his family is renowned for ruining other people’s lives for business purposes. However, the decision to place Rhaenys Targaryen in a private boarding school, that really was a glorified orphanage, was questionable in the least. Tyrion doesn’t and never did understand why two loving parents would want for their child to grow up in that environment, rather than place her in the care of a loving family member from the very beginning. He thinks Oberyn Martell is an arrogant asshole, but one that truly loves and cares for his family. He would’ve been a good uncle for Rhaenys, but he never got to assume that role because the girl’s parents had other plans for her.

“I’m listening.” He says in an even tone, but really his mind is racing, and he thinks about Jaime. Because the very last thing on Jaime Lannister’s mind is a family, Tyrion knows, yet he is mentioned as the second candidate for Rhaenys Targaryen’s legal guardianship in her parents’ will. Tyrion considers his brother a kind man, generous when he has to be, and loyal to a fault (mostly to their sister, but Tyrion doesn’t want to think about Cersei right now), but a legal guardian? Tyrion suppresses a smile, just for picturing, for some odd reason, Jaime in a drug store, with a confused look on his face, trying to determine which type of sanitary pads he should buy. 

So he listens to Oberyn talk in his heavy accent, explaining that Elia was so scared for her child’s life, that by the time she was already due to give birth to Rhaenys, she grew paranoid, and for a good reason, Tyrion thought bitterly. His own family inflicted so much pain on hers, and not just his. Oberyn tells him that his sister wanted her daughter to grow up in a neutral environment, away from predators, where she’d be able to form her own opinions about the world, without her family’s stigma weighing her down, and where she’d be protected. All Rhaegar could do was agree with his dying wife, and now finally, after so many years, Tyrion understands why that decision was made regarding Rhaneys’ future. 

“What about Jaime?” Tyrion asks the first chance he gets. Now that things are more or less clear, he wants to know if his older brother ever comes into play, and if yes, then when and how?

“I dislike your brother even more than I dislike you, but Elia trusted him, for reasons unknown to me. He was good friends with Rhaegar, but despite all that I have very little respect or consideration for him.” Tyrion smirks:

“I trust you have read the will.”

“Of course I have, that doesn’t mean I’ll ever change my attitude towards your brother.” Oberyn answers stubbornly, in a slightly raised voice. If there’s anyone to match Jaime’s arrogance and foolhardiness, that person is Oberyn Martell, Tyrion reflects, the irony of how similar the two of them are not at all lost on him. It’s hypocritical of Oberyn to judge Jaime for the things he himself would’ve done for his own family. 

“I sense you have yet to tell me why you called, unless you did just to revise the past.” Oberyn takes a deep breath, and Tyrion doesn’t know why he thinks it’s so uncharacteristic of him to do it. It makes him sound tired and old, almost defeated in a way.

“My paramour, Ellaria, doesn’t want to adopt, and it interferes with my becoming Rhaenys’ guardian. I can do it, but Ellaria will never let it go and she’ll probably take it out on my niece. I can’t let that happen.” Tyrion is stunned, and quick to reply:

“Oberyn, are you out of your fucking mind? First, let me ask you, do you know what it means if you refuse to take custody of her? Who is next in line to look after her when you so graciously refuse to?” Tyrion yells, angry at Oberyn for seemingly everything and nothing at the same. He’d later process his own outburst, right now he doesn’t really care much about restraining himself. He’s had a rough day, Tyrion reasons. 

“Your brother.” Oberyn grinds out.

“Yes! My brother! How does that make sense, for you to let your niece be raised by the very family you despise so much, in favor of keeping your woman happy?!”

“Ellaria is just as important to me as any other member of my family, I can’t simply disregard her wish, and allowing Jaime custody of her doesn’t mean I will not have any part in her upbringing!”

“Oh, how thoughtful of you! I have a hard time imagining you and Jaime acting like adults, when I know you both can’t stand each other. If you ever hope to be a positive influence in the girls’ life, you’ll have to put a tremendous amount of work into cooperating with Jaime for her sake. Are you up for the task? Because if you aren’t Oberyn, your sister’s efforts to raise her in a neutral environment, will all be in vain.”

“I’m up for the task because I love my niece. What about your brother?” Tyrion rolls his eyes:

“I can’t believe that we’re discussing Jaime becoming your niece’s guardian, while you hate him so much you won’t even pronounce his name! Why don’t you just convince your paramour to adopt this godforsaken child, instead of creating so many problems for all of us! It’s ridiculous! Do you really not see how ridiculous this is?! Do you even know what Tywin Lannister will have to say about this?”

“If your father has any objections, he’ll voice them to me. For the last time, I can’t adopt Rhaenys against Ellaria’s will.” Tyrion assumes if he just goes and starts banging his head against a nearby wall, it will be more fruitful than trying to reason with Oberyn.

“Jaime isn’t even prepared for something like this. We always thought once she’d be 16, you’d take her under your wing. Now you ditch your own niece, your beloved sister’s daughter, because of some fleeting love affair!”

“Enough! You don’t get to judge or insult my personal life, not when you’re a Lannister!” He hisses the last word in disgust, and Tyrion laughs darkly:

“Really? Don’t I? You pass my brother the responsibility to raise your niece, and you’re telling me I have no right to judge you?!” Silence, and Tyrion knows Oberyn is not that stupid to not see how ridiculous this situation is, but he can also tell it’s hard for the man to stand by his choice. He obviously loves the damn woman, and he wants what’s best for his niece. Still, it’s difficult for Tyrion to not be mad at him. 

“Jaime Lannister will do his best to become...a semblance of a parent for Rhaenys. If Elia thought him fit for that role, then he shall be able to fulfill it as best as he can. His main duty is to protect her, and the rest I’ll do myself. I’ll provide for her, I’ll spend time with her. Ellaria can’t stop me from doing that.” Oberyn explains, as if everything has already been decided. Tyrion laughs again:

“So you have some control over your woman after all.” 

“Watch your mouth, Lannister.” Oberyn warns, but Tyrion isn’t bothered in the least:

“My family is the richest family in Westeros. Rest assured, we can provide for Rhaenys without your help.”

“It wasn’t a friendly request, I’m telling you how things will be.” Oberyn says in that dangerous tone of his again, and Tyrion feels another wave of anger wash over him:

“And I’m telling you my father won’t allow it, because it would mean our family can’t afford to cover the virtually insignificant cost of Rhaenys’ education. Also, I suggest you change your attitude, however challenging it may be for you, because I think you’re missing a very important detail: Jaime may refuse. My father may never let this happen, and then your charming little plan will go to all seven hells. Consider being a bit more easy to deal with.” Tyrion finishes, hoping his attempt at sounding threatening wasn’t taken lightly. He meant every word he said, and Oberyn needs to understand it if he wants what’s best for his family, and most importantly, for Rhaenys. Oberyn seems to ponder his words, because after a pause, he sighs and says:

“Fine, but in all other respects, I shall be present in her life as much and as often as I want to. That is out of the question.”

“Then, as I’ve already said, you shall learn to be more amiable with my brother.” 

“I expect that from him as well.” 

“Of course.” 

They move on to discussing what will happen next. The phone call that Tyrion will have to make to Jaime, then Jaime’s appointment where they’ll go over the clauses of the will. Then they’ll have to attend a hearing in court where a judge will determine if Jaime is fit to be guardian or not. Tyrion feels an oncoming headache just at the thought that he’ll have to be the one to tell Jaime the news, and the one to take the brunt of his reaction respectively. 

He finds out from Oberyn that Rhaneys is an intelligent young lady, confident and gentle, if only a little stubborn sometimes. Tyrion wonders what it’s going to be like when her stubbornness clashes with Jaime’s. In all honesty, he’s interested in getting to know her, as she is the product of a great love between two of the best people he’s ever known. It would’ve been so good if they lived, but Tyrion can’t afford to dwell on the past. It hurts too much. 

As for Oberyn’s part in this agreement, Tyrion makes it clear that he’ll have to be the one to deal with Tywin Lannister, as he already has Jaime to waste all of his energy and patience on. Oberyn will diplomatically ask for an audience with the mighty Tywin, and will persuade him, as the Lannister Patriarch, to allow Jaime the deed, explaining in the process how that might benefit both of their families. Instinctively, Tyrion knows that Tywin will agree. Despite the Targaryen clan being practically extinct at this point, with Rhaenys inheriting only a small part of her family’s initial fortune, it still is a rare opportunity for Tywin Lannister to repair his family’s reputation. Tyrion isn’t naïve and won’t for a second believe that his father will do it out of the goodness of his heart, or to make amends, because his father is above all that. 

The two of them go over the amount of time it will take to accomplish all this, up until the moment Jaime is officially Rhaenys’ guardian. Tyrion hangs up and debates whether he should call Jaime now, or tomorrow. He knows tonight he’s at Cersei’s place, and that alone causes him to rest his head in his hands, wondering how the coming change in Jaime’s life will affect his relationship with their sister, and vice versa. It will be a complete disaster if Jaime doesn’t grow some fucking balls and finally rids himself of Cersei, as he should’ve done a long time ago. Momentarily Tyrion is angry with his brother, for entering the mess that is his twisted relationship with his twin, and never worrying about or trying to deal with the consequences. 

He’ll call him tomorrow, he decides, and retreats to his bedroom hoping he can get some sleep. 

*at the Children’s Bureau office”

Jaime’s head is spinning. He’d just been told that he’s to have custody of Rhaenys Targaryen. He wants to slap himself for ever thinking, hoping, the outcome of this meeting would ever be any different. He should’ve known. Tyrion’s phone call earlier today should’ve rung the bells, and still he walked into this conference room with blind hope. And what is it that he was hoping for? That maybe they called him just get to know the person mentioned in Rhaegar and Elia’s will? Maybe he was there just to meet Rhaenys, to ask her if she needed anything and wish her good fortune, that being the first and the last time he’d ever see her?

He looks at her across the table, and she seems calm. She sits and listens to the woman rambling on about clauses, regulations and court dates, and not a single thing about her posture or her facial expression gives away how she feels. Is she worried, scared, confused, uneasy? Jaime will have to ask her after this dull meeting is over. He knows he feels incredibly uneasy, and nervous about speaking with her. What is he going to say?! What should he say? 

He should listen to what’s being said, but the girl’s presence brings a ton of memories that occupy all of his thoughts. Her father, her mother, his days spent together with them, what Jaime was like as a young and ambitious boy, his little infatuation with Elia and his admiration for Rhaegar, the way Rhaegar helped him with his dyslexia and the way Elia was kind to Tyrion and could always stand up to Cersei, which was surprising considering her quiet nature. Those are good memories, and Jaime thinks he uses all the mental strength he can muster to not let his mind go to the bad ones that follow. All the sorrows and disappointments, all the loss and grief...Jaime squeezes his eyes shut and winces as if he’s experiencing it all over again.

“Mr. Lannister?” He hears the woman’s voice, sounding like a glass wall separates them. He opens his eyes and all three people in the room, including a blank-faced Rhaenys, are looking at him.

“Are you alright Mr. Lannister?” She asks again, and Jaime weakly nods. He glances over at Rhaenys and finds that she’s staring at him, but the moment he looks at her, she averts her gaze. The woman hands him a folder with all the papers he needs to go over and sign, and with that she dismisses them. Before she can leave, Jaime calls out her name:

“Rhaenys!” She turns around, the woman she walked in with at her side.

“Would it be alright if Rhaenys and I went for a short walk?” He knows he needs to ask the woman’s permission because she appears to be some sort of temporary guardian, but when he asks the question he looks the girl in the eyes, silently asking her permission as well. She nods imperceptibly, before the woman responds:

“You have an hour Mr. Lannister. We need to get back to Highgarden tonight.”

“Of course, I understand. I’ll bring her back here on time.” The woman exits the room and he’s left standing in front of Rhaenys, with absolutely no idea what to say. She looks at him expectantly, and for a fleeting moment he thinks he sees Elia Martell in the flesh. 

“Right then, come on. I know a nearby coffee shop.” He says over his shoulder as he walks out of the room, then he shakes his head, trying to shake away the image of a dead Elia together with it. 

“You knew my parents.” She states, and it’s the first time Jaime hears her voice. She never said a single word during the meeting. They walk out on the street. 

“Yes.” Jaime says and turns to his right to look at her. She’s a head shorter than him, but she seems even smaller with the way she tucks her chin in the thick woolen scarf wrapped around her neck. It is chilly outside, but being born in Dorne and growing up in Highgarden means this type of weather is already too cold for her. Jaime smiles at that. Elia hated the cold.

“How is school in Highgarden?” He knows it’s a generic question, but it’s a safe way to start a conversation.

“I like it there. I have a few good friends and a lot of books to help get me through the day.” She tells him with a smile as she looks ahead. 

“Do I happen to know any of your friends? One of my nephews is studying there.”

“Oh yes, Tommen Baratheon. He’s a very nice boy, very sweet.” Jaime smiles at her description. If only she knew. Rhaenys then adds:

“I’m good friends with Sansa Stark and Margaery Tyrell, as well as her brother Loras and my cousin Trystane.” All from prominent families, and Lannister enemies no less. Perhaps that boarding school wasn’t such a neutral environment as Elia has hoped it would be. Perhaps Rhaenys already has an opinion about the Lannisters, and it’s not a good one. 

“Mr. Lannister, can you tell me more about my parents?” She looks at him with big violet eyes, and Jaime thinks in that moment she’s the picture of innocence, and not a single mean thought about his family can ever occur to her. 

“Call me Jaime, please.” He says in his turn, and she nods her understanding, waiting for him to start telling her about her parents. Jaime swallows hard and wonders where it is best to start. 

“Your father was a good man, loyal to your mother. Your parents loved each other very much. Elia was kind and sweet.” He finishes, feeling a knot forming in his throat. He tries to swallow again but to no avail. Somehow it becomes more difficult to breathe. Rhaenys snorts:

“You’re one of the very few people left who actually knew my parents, and that’s all you can tell me? Do you know how many times I’ve heard the same words? It seems that people don’t know other descriptive besides kind and good and sweet. Why does it feel like everyone is hiding something from me?” She confronts him, a scowl on her face making her look older, the peaceful violet of her eyes turning a shade darker, just like when he first saw her. Jaime’s a bit taken aback.

“Then that’s what there is to tell. You should be happy to hear that they were good people from everyone, it means it’s true.” He tries to not let emotion seep into his voice, but he still sounds a bit defiant. Jaime has no desire to start off on a bad note with her.

“Or it means it’s a lie, both narratives can be equally plausible.” She pushes and Jaime takes a deep breath to calm himself:

“Rhaenys, you can have your doubts about many things, but when it comes to your parents, trust me when I tell you they were good people. The day we lost them was a sad day, because they truly didn’t deserve to leave this world so early. It matters that you know it, and it’s something you should treasure: you actually had decent people as parents. You should be proud.” He grits out the last sentence, breathing hard when he’s done talking, and he knows he’s failed again to not let his emotions get the better of him, but Jaime has to stress the importance of her knowing the truth about her parents, even if it’s only a part of it. In time that knowledge may become the very thing that will either make or break her. 

“Why is their past enveloped in so much mystery then? I know students at Highgarden whose both parents are deceased as well, but the circumstances of their parents’ deaths are nowhere near as enigmatic. Why is that? Uncle Oberyn is always prone to change the topic of discussion every time I talk about them for too long.” Jaime stops in his tracks:

“You will not appreciate me saying it, but this is a conversation for another day.” Rhaenys scoffs in displeasure, and walks away from him, visibly irritated. It’s something that’s been eating at her for a long time, Jaime can tell. He immediately softens, remembering what it’s like to want answers and for everyone to dismiss you. He can’t yet give her all the answers, but he’ll attempt to at least be more patient with her until he can. Jaime catches up to her. 

“I know how you feel.” He simply says. She’s still scowling, refusing to look at him. He continues:

“Don’t think I’m not telling you certain things because you’re still a child.”

“Then why aren’t you telling me? I’ve waited for so long to ask these questions. I was presented with my parents’ will a month ago. I always thought when I turned 16, I’d move back to Dorne to live with my uncle. That never happened, and uncle Oberyn proved to be unyielding whenever it came to my parents. So now you see, Jaime, you’re the last person separating me from the truth.” The last sentence sends shivers down his spine, and for a split second Jaime thinks she knows, but he doesn’t see it in her face. He doesn’t see the resentment, or the murderous look that Oberyn gives him any chance he gets. She’s just desperate and quite honestly he doesn’t know how to get out of this situation, without further hurting her feelings. He doesn’t want her to dislike him, but until this very moment, it seems he only succeeded in unwillingly alienating her from him.

It dawns on him then. There’s no honor in what he’s about to do, but since he resolved to only feed her half truths, it’s not so bad if he tells her a little lie, to spare her from being crushed by the weight of the entire truth, for now. That’s what he tells himself at least. And if that lie also conveniently has the purpose of buying him more time to come up with a well-formed answer when she inevitably asks him again, then all the better for it. 

“I don’t know. I wasn’t there when it happened so I don’t know everything. I can’t tell you any more than what you’ve already been told by other people.” They reach the coffee shop. Jaime opens the door for her and she steps in. They sit at a table by the window, where right away a waiter comes to take their order. 

Rhaenys looks out the window, deep in thought, and Jaime examines her. She has well-defined arms and shoulders, a result of playing some type of sport he guesses. He makes a mental note to ask her about it later, as it is something that may reveal more about who she is and what she likes. 

The girl has already shown him that she has character - she goes after what she wants, and she says what’s on her mind. The few times she gazed at him in that intense, almost intimidating way, spoke not of innocence or naivety typical to a girl her age. She seems hardened and wary, and Jaime can’t imagine what could possibly have happened to her in the confines of the boarding school in Highgarden, that caused her to be like this. Her eyes are deep and knowing, always either searching for something or completely unseeing, like right now.

The waiter brings their order.

“Do you play any sports?” Jaime asks her and takes a sip of his coffee. She adds a spoonful of honey to her spicy tea and stirs slowly. She likes Dornish tea. Jaime makes another mental note. 

“I’m a gymnast, and I enjoy horse-riding, like the proper little lady that I am.” She smirks, and Jaime smiles too, pleased and relieved that the girl isn’t entirely without humor. That’s a good sign. Maybe she inherited Rhaegar’s biting sarcasm. The idea broadens his smile, and he takes another sip of coffee to hide it. 

“I don’t know anything about you.” She says, placing her elbows on the table. 

“Jaime Lannister, the oldest son of Tywin Lannister, as well as his greatest disappointment.” Rhaenys raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. He doesn’t know what possessed him to say that out loud. Perhaps if he opens up, it’ll be easier for her to trust him. They’re to become family after all.

“Yes, I know, hard to believe.” 

“Why are you his greatest disappointment?” She asks, genuinely interested. 

“I don’t want to marry, which means he can’t have his heirs. My younger brother had the misfortune to be born a dwarf, and even a greater misfortune to be born a dwarf in our family. Obviously, father thinks him incapable of fulfilling the duty that he had initially thrust upon me. Then there’s our sister, my twin, that has birthed heirs to another great family of Westeros. My father feels robbed.”

“Why don’t you want to marry?” Jaime shrugs nonchalantly: 

“I fell in love with a woman that I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with. I can’t have her and I don’t want another.” At his words Rhaenys’ eyes widen a little, and she seems intrigued.

“What about her?” 

“What do you mean?” Rhaenys shifts in her seat and pinches the bridge of her nose:

“Does she love you back?” Jaime’s chest tightens and his eyes suddenly begin to sting. One more sip of coffee, a welcome distraction. He hopes she doesn’t sense the change in his demeanor.

“I don’t know.” Rhaenys then gives him a warm little smile, and in that moment Jaime appreciates it as much as someone dying of thirst would appreciate a drop of water.

“I’ve never been in love but something tells me she’s not worth it if she can’t reciprocate the feeling.” Rhaenys offers in a soothing voice. 

“Never been in love, huh?” Jaime teases, and if he’s not mistaken, he sees a hint of color in her cheeks. She shakes her head:

“No. My friends always tell me I’m too serious for my own good.”

“Are you?” She shrugs:

“Maybe. Maybe I just refuse to waste my time on stupid shit.” Jaime smiles under his nose. She doesn’t take crap from anybody. She’s her father’s daughter. 

“Boys at this age are stupid.” Jaime should know, he was an absolute nightmare growing up. He’s the reason for most of Tywin Lannister’s grey hair, and Jaime considers that to be a small victory of sorts. 

“It’s not just about boys. My friend Sansa Stark has a younger sister named Arya, and she often tells me that her being less than girly and generally having a wild streak, causes her parents a great deal of distress. I think it’s hilarious, because I’m not the girliest girl either. I’m tired of being lectured on how to be a proper lady, at Highgarden that’s all they seem to care about. They never take nearly as much interest in what I’m studying, which, I think, should be a priority in one of the best schools in the country.” Jaime bites his lower lip to suppress a smile. They might just be able to get along, and while her ungirly ways may seem like a shortcoming to her, Jaime is glad, because he’s never had much patience for women’s antics.


End file.
